Haircut

After much weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth every morning when it was time to brush hair, Gigi and I had both had enough. I cut her hair on Saturday and though I was intimidated by the task of trying to get it all even, it turned out alright. After I'd cut about six inches off, I asked her what she thought. "More cutting!" was what she said. I was sad to see her pretty locks go, but I have loved the easier maintenance. Her hair was always getting into her food and I had to wash it constantly. One morning, I even found a fruit snack in there. Now I understand my mom's rule that we could only grow our hair out once we were old enough to take care of it ourselves.